Page 37 of Lord Ashley's Beautiful Alibi
“Yes. Many do.” He knew so many French émigrés.
“No homes. No money.” She clasped her hands tightly together. “Many left with the clothes on their backs.”
“I am not surprised. Their choices were few, and death did not appeal. And as they fled, they left so many homes and chateaux vacant.”
She nodded. “Or burned or looted.”
“Committees of government confiscated so many of the former owners’ property. I suppose in many ways it is wise to put the facilities to use. Otherwise, they will deteriorate…or not be available when the owners return.”
“You think they will?” She was stunned.
“It may be possible. The world turns every day. People forgive each other.”
“They should, shouldn’t they?” she asked with a sigh.
“My house I rent is spectacular. I would love to meet the family who once owned it. They had good taste.”
“It was the property of the famous Rohan family. I knew the last owner,” she said with a wistful sigh. “I was very young, but I have distinct memories of him. He was always ready to takeme on his knee, tell me little fairy tales, and give me a hard sugar from his pocket. He liked candy—and me. Unique, he was, always kind to me. Few here were. I was the odd child, the English niece of the Duke of Orleans’ favorite. An oddity.”
Kane reached out to take her hand. “Yet you are here, an adult and very well received.”
“I am,” she said with acceptance in her tone. “Here is where I am loved.”
He stared at her, noting the yearning in her voice was as powerful a note as the appreciation. “Your aunt has been good to you.”
“She has. You can never know how much. There is so little love in the world. Especially here.” Her sad green eyes circled the room.
“I understand,” he said, and he did, quite well. “Many do not show affection for others.”
“They have not learned. They do not know how.”
He sorrowed with her, but ventured the reasons for it. “In the past decade, they have been too afraid to show much. Self-preservation is the first need. All else must fade to second place.”
She tilted her head to regard him, and her hand, still in his, tightened as she drifted toward him. “You sound as if you know this yourself.”
“I do.”
“Will you tell me?” she asked with the same innocent desire as a child who wishes a bedtime story.
“I can. It is a long tale, I’m afraid. Fit for our journeys soon to come.”
Her almond-shaped eyes widened in delight. “Tell me all of that, please.”
“Shall we try the veranda?”
“In the moonlight?” She grinned, all eager naiveté to hear his story. Drat his vain rogue’s hopes, but she was not inviting his advances.
“We dare not allow others to overhear,” he said, providing reason for his move. With a nod toward the far archway to the grand salon, she went with him toward the French doors to the soft night air.
They strode to the banister. By the light of the moon and stars, they could see the outlines of the small, trim parterre, elaborate and meant for silent contemplation.
“Do you like gardens?” she asked him, and he was surprised at the turn of her thoughts. He’d anticipated she’d want answers about their coming days together and where they’d go.
“I do, as a matter of fact.” He stood, facing her, the profile she cut against the navy velvet sky enticing him to put his hands on her. Instead, he leaned an elbow on the stone. “I often helped our gardeners when I was a child. My parents had no use for me. A third boy is so irrelevant. A phantom to them. I was out to the stables and the gardens, dining often with the tenants because I didn’t want to go home to the big, cold, dark house.”
She showed her sorrow at that by placing her hand on his. “You suffered from their inattention. How sad.”
“On the contrary,” he said as he watched strands of her hair lift in the gentle breezes. He indulged himself…or rather, he ignored the voice that yelled at him to keep his hands to himself. He traced the curls along her temple and her cheek. Everywhere he touched, she was silk and satin. “I had a very happy time of it. Our tenants are good, solid folk who took me in when they needn’t. They fed me, bathed me, allowed me the joy of their children as my playmates, and I, in turn, learned how to plow a field, turn a calf in the womb, and shoe a horse.”
